The summer sun climbs the vault of the sky this morning. A cool, clean breeze sweeps away the clouds that dim the illumination of my thoughts. Though the sun's chariot holds an even path, it rides soon to its decline at midsummer.
On June 20, the sun will reach its most northerly arc at 5:58 p.m. PDT. Following the moment of the solstice, meaning "standing sun," the sun will begin its downward journey into the waning solar year.
By tending the sun throughout its annual journey, ancient people maintained the natural order and their connection to it. Through action and myth they expressed their support of our life-giving star. From the vast primordial forest rose the Oak and Holly Kings, sovereigns of the waxing and waning solar year. Their annual duel at midsummer marked the bright Oak King's demise and the victorious reign of the dark Holly King until winter solstice. Bonfires burned brightly to stimulate the sun's strength at midsummer and flaming wheels rolled from hilltops to illustrate the sun's decline into winter.
And what of us? Unlike our forbears, most of us do not live in fervor and famine. We live in plenty and cynicism. The summer solstice passes virtually unnoticed but for the additional anxiety it may produce that too much of summer has passed and autumn is nearing.
To my mind, the summer solstice is not a time of union, such as we find at Beltaine, but a time of expression. Summer is a season of outward action, of reaching and doing. The season finds its ultimate gesture in the brilliant moment of the solstice. And like the solstice, at the height of our powers, in this season of life, there is a voice that whispers of change, of the decline of the solar year and the change that naturally attends a human life.
But too often we do not hear the whisper, we are too busy to attend to the natural events, such as the solstice, that would remind us of our deeper connections. Krishnamurti wrote "It is only when the surface mind is quieted that the hidden can reveal itself."
Find the hidden voice in yourself this summer, in whatever activity leaves your busy mind behind. Hear the sound of your own soul and express it -- whether it be through cycling, watching a vibrant sunset or the voicing of an unpopular opinion.
Just as the great solar chariot heeds its own nature and ceases to climb endlessly in the sky, so too can we listen to the quiet murmurs that advise us. Though the tides of man be fickle, our connection to the Otherworld, the quiet voice of eternity, is not.